Rhythm, Chord & Malykhin by Mariana Zapata Read Free Book Online Page B

on Eli.
    “I was going to get food, but I can help you if you want,” I almost told him how I’d wanted him to go with me, but what was the point in rubbing the situation in? The poor guy was stuck working outside in a trailer with next to zero air circulation, counting T-shirts. That sucked.
    The corners of his mouth tilted up just enough in what could be considered a sad, resigned smile. “Don’t worry about it. I can get it done; go get something to eat,” he said.
    I didn’t think he was trying to do reverse psychology on me, but I’d spent too much time with people who did. “Are you sure?”
    He nodded.
    “Are you really, really sure?”
    Carter’s smile tilted up a little more. “I’m positive.”
    I felt bad but… “Want me to bring you something?” I offered.
    His brown eyes lit up and he finally smiled, suddenly forgetting how irritated he’d been a minute before. “Please.” He began fishing through his back pocket for his wallet. Handing me a twenty-dollar bill, he paused and made a thoughtful face. “Who’s going with you?”
    Even though we’d only met two weeks ago, apparently he was going to worry about me. I liked it. “No one. My brother’s busy, and I can’t wait any longer if I want to get back here before doors open. I’ll just walk somewhere close by, no big deal.”
    “Gaby.” Carter’s long face was already telling me he thought my idea was terrible. He was only twenty-one, but he was such a mature guy, he seemed older.
    “Yes?”
    He shook his head. “This isn’t the best side of town. Find someone to go with you,” he insisted.
    “There’s no one.” There wasn’t. The guys were more than likely about to start soundchecking.
    Carter scratched at his chin, he hadn’t shaved in a couple of days and though he wasn’t capable of growing in a beard—his words, not mine—he had some stubble going on. “TCC isn’t doing anything. They’re around here somewhere.”
    I almost crossed my eyes. “I don’t want to bother them. Honest. I can go by myself.”
    Just as he opened his mouth to argue, someone cut in.
    “Where do you want to go?” The voice I’d come to recognize as Sacha’s, from our handful of conversations and from listening to him talk to the audience every night over the last fourteen days, floated through the air.
    I turned to find him in his black basketball shorts, ASICS running shoes and a T-shirt. He didn’t even look like the same man who went onstage every night in a button-down shirt and dress pants with his hair gelled or moussed into perfect place. I thought he looked even better when he wasn’t in that persona, but that was probably just me.
    We’d only spoken a couple of times about how the most recent show went, and he still seemed like a really nice guy who brought up nearly every day how I’d kicked him in the ass. Twice already he’d walked by me with his hands splayed out behind him like he was protecting his butt cheeks from attack. I also tended to go to bed before he did, so it wasn’t like we got to gossip in our bunks or anything.
    “I want to go get something to eat,” I explained a little awkwardly, eyeing the piano keys I’d come to recognize were tattooed on his neck.
    He smiled easily, making those black and skin color keys tighten. “I’ll go with you.”
    What? “You will?” We’d spoken a few times but really, it hadn’t been more than ten or fifteen minutes total. There was also the fact that every time I spoke to him, I thought about how we’d met and it made my insides cringe. We were friendly but we weren’t friends exactly. At least, not like how Carter and I were. We were at the point where I knew he liked Dr. Pepper and sour candy, disliked the same music I did, and he had a girlfriend who hated him going on tour. You knew you were friends with someone when they grew comfortable enough around you to let you read psycho text messages from the person they were dating.
    “Yeah,” the tall man